


Unanswered

by Melancholytown



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Blood, F/M, Love, Romance, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 19:30:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4678616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melancholytown/pseuds/Melancholytown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stannis Baratheon has won the Battle of the Blackwater and King's Landing has been conquered. As the Lannisters are slaughtered, Sansa Stark awaits her fate. Will she reunite with her family? Or will she face the same doom as the Lannisters had? As she visits the godswood to pray for her life, she finds that her prayers are answered in a form of a man. Or a dog.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unanswered

The aftermath of battle was always more horrifying than the actual battle. Pungent odor erupt from the rotting flesh of grotesque and mutilated corpses and separated body parts lay here and there. The air was alive with flies, their buzzing a low monotonous sound. Children made homeless scour the streets, rummaging through the pockets of dead people in search for coin to pay for food and shelter. Half-naked women shuffled by, disoriented. They had been the victims of rape after men had their taste of victory, they settled out for the taste of women.  
  
The only person unaffected by the cruelty of war was Sansa Stark who looked over the sorry state of the city with dead emerald eyes from the window of her chambers. King’s Landing had never been home to her and its citizens had never been kind to the proclaimed traitor’s daughter who less than deserved to marry the glorious and beloved king of the Seven Kingdoms. As she observed the ruined city, she spotted two of her handmaidens, naked from the waist down, lying dead still on the hard ground. One of them had their stomach cut open and flies occupied the inside of her gut. She felt no sorrow for the two girls however. They had been spies for the queen back when they were alive and they used to inform about Sansa’s actions to the queen during the time she had been held captive.  
  
But what really appealed to her was the sight of five heads mounted upon spikes from the castle wall. They had been dipped in tar but that didn’t stop the crows from plucking out an eye from one of the heads. I told him, she thought, I told him it would be his head on a spike one day. He no longer looks so scary now without a body or a crown. Her beautiful porcelain face betrayed no emotion as she drank in the sight of Joffery, Tyrion, Cersei and Tommen Lannister’s heads, their faces forever frozen with fear. Ilyn Payne’s head was just beside Joffery’s, and his mouth was open exposing the lack of his tongue.  
  
There was a light knock on her chamber door and she snapped out of her reverie. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she crossed the room towards the door wondering if it was someone who would deliver the news of her fate.  
  
She was wrong. Outside her chambers stood a girl of two-and-one, the gentle features of the child’s face marred by the infamous greyscale. Sansa let out a sigh of relief.  
  
“Princess Shireen,” she greeted and curtsied. The little princess did the same.  
  
“Lady Sansa,” Shireen echoed, “I hope you don’t mind. Father and Ser Davos are having a meeting with the small council. And mother is in bed because of a headache.” She wrinkled her nose. “Could I have your company?”  
  
“Of course. Would you like to stroll through the castle gardens?”  
  
Princess Shireen hesitated and Sansa gave herself a mental whack on the head. The castle gardens were likely to be damaged due to the pillaging last night by Stannis’, King Stannis’ soldiers. She had no doubt that it would take a little while for the gardens to be restored to its former glory.  
  
“Forgive me, Princess. I forgot,” Sansa apologized.  
  
“It’s alright,” Shireen said, good-naturally. “We could just talk here.”  
  
Sansa opened the door wider to allow the little princess through. Shireen skipped happily inside and sat herself down on Sansa’s bed.  
  
“Do you ever get lonely up here?” she inquired.  
  
“Sometimes,” Sansa admitted, taking a seat beside her. She absent-mindedly tucked a strand of Shireen’s hair behind a deformed ear, warped by the greyscale and took great care not to come into contact with it. The girl was kind and good-natured but there was something about the greyscale that intrigued Sansa, disgusted her even.  
  
“Well, you won’t ever be lonely again,” Shireen declared, “Father will make sure you get home safely to your mother and brother and Winterfell.” She took Sansa’s hands. “It must have been scary living with the Lannisters. Father says they care for nothing but gold and victory. Were they cruel to you?”  
  
Sansa looked down at her lap. “Joffery always had his guards beat me when I displeased him. His mother was no better. She was always looking for an opportunity to torment me.” She paused as if in deep thought. “But Lord Tyrion was kind to me. He tried his best to shield me from Joffery and Cersei. And Tommen was just a child and he was oblivious of his mother’s and brother’s cruelty. He was only a few years younger than you.”  
  
Shireen nodded. “My Uncle Axell… he—,” she swallowed and Sansa looked at the girl expectedly, curious to what she had to say. “He planned to wed me to Prince Tommen and had gone far enough to send a raven. Father grew angry when he found out and had Lady Melisandre burn him alive.”  
  
Sansa had head of this Lady Melisandre. Sometimes she would eavesdrop on her handmaidens when they stood guard outside her chambers. Apparently she was some sort of priestess from Asshai who worshipped a peculiar god and was always daubed in red. There were rumors that she had a hand in Renly Baratheon’s death as well but how a single woman could carry out the assassination of a very well-guarded king, Sansa could not imagine. Her handmaidens could be downright silly but now, hearing about the red priestess from the daughter of the man she served, Sansa found herself wondering if the stories were true. Granted, it was a little far-fetched but Shireen had talked about her in such a haunting way. Maybe Lady Melisandre had been grossly underestimated.  
  
“I-I’m so sorry to hear that, Princess,” Sansa said, sincerely. “That must have been very hard to witness.”  
  
“I think I wouldn’t have minded marrying Tommen,” Shireen confessed, “He seems pleasant and I haven’t been around people my age. We were expecting Lady Arya to be here too. I was looking forward to meeting her.”  
  
Sansa let out a nervous laugh. “I’m sure she would have loved to meet you too,” she lied, knowing full well that Arya despised petty high-born girls, especially those that are weak and feeble. One single encounter with Arya could send the little princess into tears. Sometimes Sansa wished she had the same toughness her sister and brothers had inherited from their father. Even little Rickon would prove braver.  
  
“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what happened to her?”  
  
Sansa looked at her. Did Stannis ask his daughter to find out about Arya’s whereabouts from her? Was this the reason for her visit? “I don’t know, Princess,” she said, choosing her words carefully. “Arya disappeared during the sack and h-her body was not found either. She might have escaped but who knows how long she could last out there on her own?”  
  
Shireen flung herself around her waist and Sansa found herself dumbfounded to the comforting gesture she had just received. Uncertain of what to do, she lifted her arms around the Princess and patted her on the back. Shireen looked up to Sansa without moving away.  
  
“Don’t you worry about a thing, Sansa,” she ordered and buried her face in Sansa’s chest, “you’ll be reunited with your family soon enough.”  
  
Yes, Sansa mused, the ones still living or the ones that have already passed over?  
  


XXX

Two cold beady eyes wearingly gazed at the face carved upon the weirwood tree. The night was cold and harsh winds blew, pressing stinging kisses upon the open wound as the leaves rustle and twigs drop to the ground with a soft thud. Despite the impenetrable armor he wore, the ex-Kingsguard couldn’t help but let an algid shiver run through the length of his body. His cape was tattered and stained with the remains of the battle. His sword lay unsheathed on the marble stone, red and sticky with blood.

 _Not tonight. Surely she wouldn’t be so foolish to come out tonight. ___But foolishness was exactly what he was hoping for the sight of her would give him the comfort he was looking to turn to. Or perhaps he was dreading that Stannis’ guards would find him first before she did. There was no doubt what would happen if they did. They would lop his bloody head off before even presented to the king. Everyone knew who the Hound was even if they’ve never seen him. He had his trademark defect which made him easily recognizable anywhere in Westeros. How often does one stumble upon a giant of a man with a monstrous scar spoiling the half of his face?

He wanted to peel off his armor. It was tempting and the cool metal was digging in quite ferociously into his wound. But it also provided him with warmth and if the wound or Stannis didn’t kill him first, the cold surely will. It seems that death awaited him everywhere he turned. Sandor Clegane looked up to the wooden face embedded in the bark of the tree and contemplated whether or not he should pray. After all, he was seeking sanctuary in a place of worship.

He let out a quiet chuckle. His wound was making him feel lightheaded. If things were to continue the way they were he would be dead in a fortnight and all the gods in the Seven Kingdoms would not be able to change that. His eyes started to droop and his dulled acuity made it difficult for him to remain conscious. The face in the tree started to blur but he could make out some sort of fluid that began to look out of its pupil-less eyes.

Funny, it almost seemed like blood.  



End file.
